Chapter 37
THIRTY-SEVEN
LINDSAY
The wards fade behind us with a soft shimmer as Headmaster Veyne leads the way back down the narrow corridor. The conversation still echoes in my head.
You will have my help.
For the first time since coming back from the Veil, the future feels…possible. I walk beside him in silence, the stone floor cool beneath my boots, the walls lined with centuries of artifacts that hum faintly with restrained magic.
My mind is already racing ahead. Headmaster Veyne pushes open the door leading back toward the main chamber.
“Tamsin will be waiting,” he says calmly.
“She’s probably threatening the portraits by now.”
A corner of his mouth lifts faintly. “I suspected as much.”
We step into the larger room of his private quarters. The tall windows spill pale morning light across the polished floor, and the familiar quiet settles again.
For half a heartbeat, everything is still. Then the air tears open. A sharp crack splits the room like lightning striking stone. Headmaster Veyne freezes. My stomach drops.
A black fissure rips through the space beside his bed, the edges of reality peeling back like burned paper. Darkness coils inside the tear—thick, wrong, and definitely alive.
A portal.
His voice turns to steel. “Run—”
But it’s too late. A figure steps through the rift. Tall. Elegant. Dressed in dark silver robes that ripple like liquid shadow. His eyes burn crimson.
Lord Draven.
The air in the room curdles instantly, magic twisting under his presence like something alive trying to escape.
“Well,” he says softly, his voice smooth as polished glass. “This is a touching reunion.”
My blood turns to ice. Headmaster Veyne moves without hesitation, stepping in front of me. His magic flares—brilliant, ancient power igniting around us like a shield.
“Draven.”
Lord Draven smiles.
“Headmaster.”
He glances past him. At me. The look in his eyes is hungry.
“So,” he murmurs. “The Veil’s child finally shows herself.”
My pulse thunders.
“You’re late,” Headmaster Veyne says coldly. “I wondered how long it would take you to notice.”
Draven sighs, almost bored. “You always did have a talent for being inconvenient.”
His hand lifts lazily. The magic that gathers there feels wrong. Not wild. Controlled. Cruel.
“Did you really think,” Lord Draven continues softly, “that you could guide her without me noticing? After all these centuries, Veyne…you still overestimate yourself.”
Headmaster Veyne’s power surges higher. “Leave this place.”
Draven laughs. A quiet, amused sound. “No.”
The word barely leaves his lips before the spell launches. It moves faster than thought. A blade of dark magic slices through the room.
Headmaster Veyne doesn’t even try to dodge. He steps forward instead. Directly into its path. The spell slams into him with a sound like glass shattering.
“Headmaster—”
The force throws him backward into the bed-frame. The wood splinters. For one terrible second, he remains standing. Then the light around him flickers. Cracks of silver magic spiderweb across his chest where the spell struck. His eyes meet mine.
Not afraid.
Just…resigned.
“I’m sorry,” he says quietly.
The magic collapses. His body turns to ash. The remains scatter across the floor in a whisper of grey dust. I can’t breathe.
Lord Draven exhales slowly. “Finally.”
My shock explodes into rage. “You—”
The word barely forms before his hand flicks toward me. Pain rips through my side like a blade driven between my ribs. I scream as the spell throws me across the room. My back slams into the stone wall hard enough to rattle my teeth.
The bond inside my chest erupts instantly. My shadows and magic flare out toward him.
Fire. Ice. Shadow. Light. Raiden. Dorian. Kael. Nolan. They feel it. I know they do. Lord Draven’s head tilts.
“Oh good,” he murmurs. “Call them. I’d love to meet the rest of your little constellation.”
My vision blurs as I push myself up, blood soaking into my sleeve where the spell struck.
“You’re afraid of them,” I spit.
His smile widens.
“Afraid?” he echoes. “No.”
He steps closer, boots echoing softly against the floor.
“I built this world, child. Every power your precious academy wields—every scrap of magic your bonds depend on—flows from the work my family began.”
His crimson gaze burns into mine.
“You are not the Veil’s salvation.” His voice drops to a whisper. “You are its key. Or really your blood is. I don’t need you alive to unlock the Veil.”
The door behind us explodes open.
“TAMSIN—” I want to tell her to stop, run, save herself.
She storms into the room, magic already blazing in her hands. Her eyes land on the ash scattered across the floor. Then on Lord Draven. Her expression turns feral.
“You.” Draven sighs. “Ah.”
He lifts a hand. The spell hits her before she can cast. Invisible force slams into her chest and throws her against the wall beside the door. Her head cracks against the stone. She crumples instantly.
“Tamsin!” I shout.
Lord Draven glances between us, mildly inconvenienced.
“You children are exhausting.”
He crosses the room in two effortless strides and grips Tamsin by the arm, hauling her upright. She doesn’t move. Unconscious. My heart stops.
“What are you doing?” I choke out.
Draven opens another portal beside him, the dark tear curling open like a wound in reality. He drags Tamsin toward it.
“Sending a message.”
My magic surges wildly, shadows lashing across the floor as I struggle to stand.
“Don’t you dare—”
He pauses at the edge of the portal and looks back at me. His smile is colder than the Veil.
“Find me, little Veilborn, if you survive.” His gaze flicks briefly to the blood soaking my sleeve. “If you want your friend back.”
Then he steps into the darkness. The portal snaps shut, and the room falls silent. Ash drifts slowly through the air where Headmaster Veyne stood.
I stumble to my feet, blood dripping freely from my injured shoulder. My vision blurs at the edges, the room tilting slightly as the adrenaline begins to burn off.
Ash drifts through the air.
Grey. Silent. All that remains of Headmaster Veyne. The sight hits me like another blow to the chest. For a second, I can’t move.
Can’t breathe.
Then the bond inside my chest detonates.
Pain. Fury. Fear.
Four different signatures of magic slam into my mind at once—Kael’s shadows surging like a storm, Nolan’s bright, frantic pulse of concern, Raiden’s hot flare of anger, Dorian’s sharp, icy focus.
They feel me. They know something is wrong. And they’re coming. I press my hand against the wound on my shoulder, biting back a hiss as fresh blood seeps through my fingers.
“Tamsin…” I whisper hoarsely.
The room answers with silence. Lord Draven took her. A cold, vicious clarity settles over me. Running to the others won’t save her.
They’ll want a plan. They’ll want time. They’ll want strategy.
But Draven didn’t take Tamsin because she mattered to him. He took her because she matters to me.
Which means the clock is already ticking. I stagger toward the door, gripping the wall for balance. There’s only one person who can get me to him fast enough.
Auron.
The corridor outside Headmaster Veyne’s quarters spins when I step into it. Students’ voices echo somewhere down the stairwell, distant and unaware that their headmaster is nothing but dust now.
I force my legs to move. Down the stairs. Past the portraits that seem to watch me with quiet horror. The bond pulses again, stronger this time.
Lindsay.
Nolan. His voice trembles through the connection. New and unsure it’s even reaching me. My barriers are down, so I can hear them, too.
Where are you?
I push the feeling away before he can see too much.
I’m fine, I lie.
The lie barely holds together. Kael’s voice follows immediately, darker and far less convinced.
You’re bleeding.
I said I’m fine.
My breath comes shorter now, every step jarring the wound.
Lord Draven is at the school, I add quickly.
That gets their attention. The bond erupts into pure rage.
What? Dorian’s voice snaps through the connection.
He killed Headmaster Veyne, I say.
The words taste like iron. Silence slams down across the bond for half a heartbeat. Then Raiden’s magic spikes so sharply it almost knocks the breath from my lungs.
Where are you?
“I’m handling it,” I mutter aloud as I push through the tower doors and into the cold morning air.
Students scatter across the quad, laughing, talking, living their normal lives. None of them notice the blood running down my arm. None of them see the way the shadows around my feet twist restlessly.
Lindsay, Nolan pleads softly through the bond. Stop. Let us come to you.
“I can’t.” I’m not even sure if I sent the thought or said it. “He took Tamsin.”
The bond goes dead quiet, and I know they heard my words. Then Kael speaks.
Slow. Controlled.
Where?
I swallow. I know he’s asking where I’m going. “Auron.”
Their reactions crash into the bond all at once. Shock. Anger. Concern. Fear.
Absolutely not, Nolan blurts.
You’re injured, Raiden says sharply.
And if you go to Auron right now— Dorian starts.
“I don’t have time!” I snap, the words echoing across the empty stretch of quad.
A few nearby students glance over, startled. I don’t care.
Lord Draven’s voice echoes in my mind.
Find me, little Veilborn.
My hand curls into a fist.
“If anyone can get me to Draven, it’s Auron,” I say through clenched teeth. “And if I have to drag him there myself, I will.”
The bond burns hotter, their emotions colliding with mine. Finally, Kael exhales slowly.
Then we come with you.
“No.”
Lindsay—
“No.”
I stop in the center of the quad, breathing hard.
“If he sees all of you coming, he’ll kill her before we get close.”
None of them argue. Because they know I’m right.
“I’ll bring him to you,” I say quietly. “But first, I have to find him.”
The bond thrums again, reluctant but accepting.
Don’t die, Dorian mutters darkly.
Despite everything, a shaky laugh escapes me.
“I’ll do my best.”
I turn toward the western tower, following the faint bond. Toward the Bloodborn who refuses to break his curse for me. Toward the only path that can lead straight to Lord Draven.
Blood drips steadily from my fingertips as I walk. And with every step, the Veil inside me stirs. Awake. Hungry. Ready for war.